The Lure of Delacour
by sayit18
Summary: <html><head></head>The Beauxbaton enigma has enticed Hermione since the moment she pranced into the Great Hall. Everyone knows Hermione cannot resist learning something new. However, they should also know how much she cherishes the freedom to do as she pleases. Please be sure to leave constructive criticism. I am doing this to better my writing.</html>
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer that none of these characters, or the book for that matter, belong to moi. JKR is a goddess. I simply like to imagine off of what she has already created.**

**Please give me constructive criticism because I am doing this to better my writing. This is my first fanfiction so I need all the help I can get.**

**Cheers!**

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Hermione looks on in disgust as Ron, sitting in front of her, attempts to retell events that occurred earlier in the day with a mouthful of mashed potatoes and a turkey leg in hand. Her eyes do not stay on him for long, already feeling her appetite fading. She focuses on the people around them to see how they are fairing with this crude display whilst they eat. To her surprise, they are listening, unfazed by how the redhead continues to stuff his mouth with as much of that turkey as he can while still animating his story. Harry is on Ron's right and, although leaning a bit away to avoid any rogue meat that may escape, is listening to his friend quite intently. On his other side, Ginny just picks apart her own turkey leg quietly, seemingly immune to her brother's bad table manners after so many years of living with him. The twins are laughing beside Hermione as Ron's story of another one of Seamus' accidents comes to its climax. She narrows her eyes at them in frustration when she realizes they are laughing at their brother, not with him. If only they would stop egging Ron on, maybe she could eat in peace. She knew better than to think the mischievous duo would stop when they were clearly getting their kicks for the evening. Almost at her wit's end, Hermione starts to speak up when she is cut off by a booming voice that silences the entire dining hall.

"Silence!"

All of the students know that voice all too well. Dumbledore is normally a soft-spoken man. His wise tone is enough to capture anyone's attention. In the dining hall, however, even he had to bump it up a notch. With the loud roars of four different houses no one could possibly be heard without the help of magic. That is why the headmaster was standing before them with his wand softly pressed against his neck.

The four long tables of students look on in anticipation, knowing an important announcement must be following the demand since the odd spectacle of two fellow school's arrivals this morning had yet to be explained. As Hermione scans the table holding all of Hogwart's professors a gasp gets caught in her throat. She wonders if any of her fellow Gryffindors had taken notice of the new guest that was sitting to the left of Professor McGonagall. Had she really missed a man as influential as Barty Crouch this entire time? Although there is no way he could have even taken notice of the brunette sitting yards away from him amidst the sea of green, blue, red, and yellow robes she still scolds herself for being so at ease in front of one of the Ministry of Magic's enforcers. Her mind starts to ponder the idea of stalking him out of the Great Hall after dinner to overload him with flattery and questions regarding how to work up to such a high position.

Her thoughts are postponed as the Hall's doors slam shut. Hermione whips her head around just in time to see Filch limp as fast as his old body would allow up to the Headmaster's podium. Dumbledore's exasperation to being interrupted is promptly followed by intense whispering. Confused murmurs and amused giggles fill the room as the two go back and forth. Hermione has never liked to be the last to know something and feels an uneasy sensation creep up her neck. She takes the break in Dumbledore's speech to glance at Harry and Ron who both simultaneously give her a shrug. Then her eyes venture back up to Crouch, finally noticing the nervous tick in his habits after being drug out of her own thoughts. Her attention returns to Filch for a brief moment to see him hobble out of the Dining Hall before settling back on the man beside McGonagall. As Dumbledore begins his speech yet again, Crouch's anxiety seems to grow. It only took a minute later for Hermione to realize why his presence was necessary, although she could hardly believe her ears.

_The Triwizard Tournament was banned ages ago. How is Hogwarts hosting something so..barbaric? How is the Ministry even allowing this? _The rationalized thoughts that flow through Hermione's brain are interrupted yet again by the reopening of the ginormous Hall doors, but this intrusion is far more enticing than Filch and his bum leg. As the old wood creaks open the first group of mystery guests are revealed. It is the Beauxbaton's Academy of Magic's girls grouped in their form-fitting blue uniforms accompanied by matching hats and tiny, flitting birds. As the females practically glide down the Great Hall they stop every few steps to give a sensual sigh and lean, left then right then left again. Hermione raises a brow in judgement at the provocative nature of their movements, noticing the heave of their bosoms accompanied by the sashay of their hips as they lean towards her section of the Gryffindor table. Only when she moves her eyes up and makes eye contact with a particular set of steel blue orbs does she realize just how closely she was looking at this particular girl adjacent to her. Hermione's own chocolate brown eyes are quick to dart down, though she cannot fathom a reason as to why. She was simply taking notice of how risque this whole performance is. Maybe it was the small smirk that graced the blonde girl's lips.

She looks up again to see the group prancing away down the aisle to torture some other Hogwarts boys with their charm. After one last big sigh the girls cross one another in two lines that go to either side of the front of the Great Hall. All but a dancer donned in a skin tight suit oddly resembling the design of a bird and one of the girls in blue that seemed to be the favorite of Madam Maxime. The two girls take a low bow and wear triumphant smiles as the Hall erupts in applause. Hermione gives a clap of her own despite the lack of care that all of the other Hogwarts females were showing the performance. She does not understand why she cannot seem to take her eyes off of the girl that is front and center. Apparently Maxime's favor is not the only one she has captured tonight. Thinking she might go crazy if she continues with her stares she busies herself with the contents of her plate. That is when she notices Ginny's dainty hand raise from the corner of her eye. That hand promptly smacks into the back of Ron's head as he is about to practically fall out of his seat to appreciate the girls from behind. Her hit earns quite a loud protest from the freckled male. Just as he is about to demand to know what such an act of abuse from his younger sister was about, the second group enters. Loud bangs and an ominous chant, belonging more to soldiers than to students, kill the wistful mood that the Beauxbaton girls so generously created.

The Durmstrang Institute have a much different entrance planned from the feminine mystique of their predecessors. Every time their staffs make contact with the ground the noise ricochets off of every corner of the vast refectory. After the boys, or men rather, appear to be satisfied with the silence that has overtaken the students they lay down their staffs and take off in a sprint down the aisle. Hermione does not know when her lips parted in wonder, but the area between them widens when the favorite champion of Durmstrang enters at Igor Karkaroff's side. Maybe it is his piercing dark eyes or the strong, prideful strides he takes down the aisle..something about the Bulgarian Seeker makes the room suddenly seem far too warm for comfort. She takes a deep breath to calm herself, feeling ashamed for getting this bothered over someone from that infamous school. That is, until Ron mutters "Victor Krum" in such admiration only a lover, or extreme Quidditch fan, could muster. For the rest of the boys' performance she tries to sit as aloof as possible.

_The flamed snake was a bit excessive anyway, _Hermione thinks as she battles with her internal need for the Seeker. She would be damned if any male had control over her senses like Victor just obtained simply by walking past.

Following the ornate display, the Beauxbaton girls and Durmstrang boys sits with Ravenclaw and Slytherin respectively. Hermione seems to have no control over her body tonight because the cursed tingling sensation that is overtaking her every nerve ending would not fade away. As hard as she tries to listen to Dumbledore's speech or care about the age restriction that had followed, she just couldn't get past the fogginess of her mind. A half hour goes past in white noise. Her eyes are on her friends, excited expressions lit their faces, but she could not have been more disengaged. That changes when an electric jolt ascends up her back at the same time a certain french accent flows to her ears. Hermione freezes in place, eyes widening for just a moment before biting her tongue to regain her senses. Maxime's prize must have sneaked up on everyone by the looks on their faces; Ginny annoyed, Ron drooling, and Harry grinning from ear to ear. The blue-dressed beauty places a gentle hand on Ron's shoulder.

"Excusez moi. The connards[1] over there have eaten the best dish on the table," the blonde's voice turns from one of disdain to enchanting, "may we have some of your bouillabaisse?"

Harry could see Ron's nervous stuttering start to irk the Beauxbaton goddess. He offers the entire bowl from their own table in a moment of panic, not at his full wits either. She gives a haughty smile in thanks and is about to turn away with the bowl as Ginny's fire bubbles to the top.

"Bloody hell, Harry. You can't just give her the entire thing! I wasn't finished yet! Who are you to come over and just take Gryffindor's things anyway? Go back to those stupid birds."

Ron huffs and nudges his sister's side with his elbow, "Ginny.."

Hermione's eyes go wide once more. Ginny grew up with a band of brothers in the house, she could not really be mad at someone taking more than their share of food. Besides, the skinny girl stopped eating awhile ago. _Maybe I was paying attention._ That is when Hermione notices Ginny's death glare at Harry. The puzzle pieces then set themselves into place. This had less to do with Harry giving away the French dish and more over the way he was looking at the French belle.

She scoffs a quick retort, "I am Fleur Delacour, Beauxbaton's top student and soon-to-be Triwizard champion," her eyes narrow, "Ginny is it? I would hold your tongue."

Afraid that this may turn into an all-out battlle, Hermione places her hand over her friend's, shaking her head. "The year has just started, Gryffindor does not need to lose any points over some fish in soup."

With a smirk and a wink pointed straight at the brunette, Fleur says to Ginny, "Je kiffe ton ami[2]. Maybe you should be more like her," before swaying back to her table with the satisfaction of winning.

Ignoring the younger girl's frustrated remarks about the situation at hand, Hermione takes back her hand and places it in her lap alongside the other one. She can feel herself lose interest in her friends' conversation again and looks around the room to see how the other students are fairing with the new additions. That is when she notices Krum's intense stare pointed right at her. _He must be the one driving me insane. _Concluding that he is the culprit for her body being in such shambles she tries to break their eye contact. Something in her, however, refuses to do so. It was only when George snaps his fingers in front of her face that her eyes tear away from the Durmstrang boy's.

"Earth to Hermione..you of all people can settle this. Which is better to use in a deul: Anteoculatia or Rictasempra[3]?"

The younger girl rolls her eyes at the twins. Secretly thankful for the distraction, she feeds into the ridiculous discussion. If anything could preoccupy her mind, it is an argument about magic.

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**[1] Basically translates into "assholes" or a similar curse word**

**[2] "I _like_ your friend"**

**[3] Hair turns into antlers or tickling spell**


	2. Chapter 2

**As before, I beg for criticism of my work so I can get better. If there are too many repeats of actions, story is going too slow, silly spelling mistakes, etc. I would love you to point them out to me. Thank you, lovelies. Enjoy!**

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Hermione shakes her head and reopens her book on _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_. She warned the worrisome twins to the best of her ability. If they wish to proceed with their ridiculous plan anyways then she wants no part in it. As the duo make an overzealous display of drinking their aging potions Hermione tries to keep her focus on how to properly train a Niffler. A small sigh comes from the girl when she hears cheering and a sort of battle cry from the Weasley troublemakers. Despite her best efforts, she glances up at Fred and George who are now standing in the circle unharmed. _Just a matter of time__. F__ive.. _The two raise their arms up to signal more cheering is needed. _Four. _"Ready," one says to the other just before they toss both of their parchments into the blue flames. _Three. _They share a glance as their names are disintegrated, officially marking them in the running. _Two. _After a second of deafening silence the crowd erupts into yet another naive cheer. _One._ Hermione's lips turn up into a small smirk as the fire goes in all different directions before hitting Fred and George with just enough force to land them out of the age circle and right on their asses. Growing to an age much too wise-looking for the two, they are forced to realize how horribly their plan has failed. With a roll of her eyes Hermione tries yet again to go back to reading the book in her lap. She does a decent job at drowning out the sounds of fighting teenage geezers. It is the silence that Viktor Krum brings on simply by walking into the room that makes Hermione give up on learning about the treasure-hunting beasts.

After shutting the book, far more delicately this time, and placing it to her side she watches him pass. The brunette quietly admires his prideful strut that makes the crowd part all the way to the goblet. No one utters a word, too stunned by the seeker's presence. As the broad Durmstrang student places his name into the flames his eyes meet Hermione's. For just a moment she could have sworn his brooding features relaxed into the briefest of smiles, one she felt obligated to return.

The moment he leaves confusion sweeps over her. Obligation is the last thing she felt towards him at the feast. _I need air. _Sweeping the book under her arm as she stands, she gives her companions a slight nod before making her way to the door. Not having the pleasure of exuding Viktor's presence, Hermione weaves haphazardly through the crowd of students. As soon as she thinks she is in the clear, she makes contact with a tall silhouette that sends her book flying out from the safety of her arm and onto the floor. Letting out a slight grunt on impact, she immediately bends down to retrieve the book as if it were gold. Her extreme aggravation towards the jostling crowd in the room makes her miss the French lilt coming from above. It is not until the blonde bends down herself that Hermione has a chance to recognize the culprit. A hand touches her own when she goes for the book, sending a shock up her arm that travels throughout her entire body. The sudden sensation makes Hermione fall back on her bum which earns a small giggle from the girl safely on her knees in front of her. This sends fire through the proud Gryffindor's veins. Hermione ignores Fleur's helpful hand and pushes herself up off the ground. With one glare aimed down at the girl, her laughter halts. Fleur raises a brow, her amusement now mixed with bewilderment, as she watches the brunette stomp off.

Now clutching the book tight to her chest, Hermione mumbles to herself, "Could she be any more of a..a.."

She lets out a big huff when no insults come to mind. The walls blur around her as her pace quickens, her vision only focusing on what is straight ahead. Seething in silence, she steps onto the moving staircase. _Why do I even care? _She taps her fingers on the book as she searches for an answer. She was never one to hate someone because of a friend so the problem could not be Ginny's irritation towards the Beauxbaton beauty. However, Hermione has not seen the girl since the night of their entrance. Passings in the hall cannot count, considering Fleur is always surrounded by a gang of blue hats that only let Hermione catch mere glances. She has not had an opportunity to develop anything other than indifference for the fellow student.

Seeing too late that she had been caught up in her thoughts, Hermione misses her stop on the stairs. _Could this get any worse?_ She soon comes to realize it can, and does, when a small, transparent man with that familiar orange bow tie pops out through the wall right beside her. Instead of letting out a frightened gasp that the infamous poltergeist usually receives upon arrival, she swats through him, ignoring the chill that comes with the act. "Not now, Peeves."

"Why it's the Granger girl," Peeves states with a mischievous grin, "always so tightly wound..especially when she hits the ground!"

The reference to what just happened makes Hermione's face become red with a combination of anger and embarrassment. "I'll sick the Bloody Baron on you, Peeves! Now," she wacks him as hard as she can with her book, "scram!"

His body simply dissipates around the attack. Hermione turns her head back and forth, her brown strands whipping in her face, as she readies herself for the poltergeist's retaliation. The book shifts to one hand to free her other to grab her wand. Upon hearing his ominous cackles fade up the staircase she lets out a breath of relief she did not realize she was holding in. The last thing she needs is Peeves' annoying rhymes and pranks. This is why she is sure to catch the right way down the stairs this time, thankful for one good thing finally happening.


	3. Chapter 3

**Just a little side note: I will not be writing Fleur's dialogue showing the French accent because it is a bit harder to read then. After all, you don't need me to do it to Hermione's dialogue to picture that lovely British, right?  
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Making her way down the hall to her safe haven for when she feels overwhelmed, Hermione keeps her head lowered as she walks. All she needs is peace and quiet. Something she knows she will not obtain if anyone notices her and tries to strike up a conversation. She is not even sure if she would be able to think enough to form words since she hasn't slept properly in nearly a week. Every time she would try she would just wake up an hour later covered in sweat and this odd sensation of unwanted bliss. _How am I supposed to be studying for the herbology exam if I keep having dreams-or nightmares-that I cannot remember?_

As her fingers wrap around the familiar cold of the brass handle of the library doors she lets out a relieved sigh. A smile even begins to appear at the sound of the creaking oak and the old hinges giving way. _Free at last._ Most would think quite differently surrounded by the towering book cases and the eery silence enforced by the librarian, Madam Irma Pince. Hermione, however, could not wait to see the pinched-faced woman. She makes her way to Pince's desk to see what goodies she has for Hermione this visit.

Upon reaching her destination she realizes the woman is nowhere in sight. She calls out her name, barely over a whisper in fear of her reprimands, "Madam Pince?"

Hermione chews on her bottom lip, having enough of the rotten luck of this past week. "This is ridic-"

Her sentence is stopped short as she turns around and nearly collides with the same blue-dressed Beauxbaton as before. She rolls her shoulders back to stand a bit straighter, subconsciously hoping to match the slightly taller girl's height. Her lips set into a thin line at the same time Fleur's curve up into a haughty smile.

"No need to get anxious. Madam has gone to fetch me a book about-" Fleur's smile falters as she has to choose her next words rather carefully, "large..reptiles."

Hermione, too caught up in her uneasiness at the close proximity to the blonde, unable to back away due to the tall desk behind her, does not take notice of the slip. She simply scoffs, "'Fetch'? It is no secret what you think of this school, but Madam Pince is-"

"Did someone call my name?" The librarian takes her seat behind the wooden fortress, a small tsk coming from her, "Miss Granger, as much as I enjoy the admiration, you know the rules about the volume level in my library."

Fleur's smile grows and Hermione sees laughter dancing behind those blue orbs just before she turns to apologize to her superior. Madam Pince responds with a short, shooing wave of her hand and hands Hermione a stack of reptilian literature. "Take them and leave me, child, I have much to attend to and your friend here has already taken up enough of my time."

Just as Hermione was going to point out the obvious of the little friendship between her and the girl watching on in amusement behind her, Madam Pince gives her infamous stare, her glasses resting on the edge of her nose, which causes Hermione to turn around and cut her losses. When she does so she has the intense displeasure of shifting the books in her hands to see the blonde walking off to a table by the window. _Who does she think she is?_

Knowing she would get scolded once more if she left the books, she stalks over to the table and, with all of her willpower, barely manages to not slam them down in front of the sitting girl. "That was nice of you, Hermione," the same smile is plastered on Fleur's face as she speaks, "thank you."

Hermione's eyes narrow and her tongue runs across the back of her teeth, seething in silence for only a moment before laying into the cocky blonde, "I am not your pack mule, Fleur Delacour. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going far away from you before you ruin the only sanctuary I have left."

This sudden burst of outrage makes Fleur reach for Hermione as she goes to leave, her delicate fingers wrapping around Hermione's small wrist. As the Gryffindor twists back around she makes a move to jerk her wrist away, only making Fleur hold on tighter, the playfulness in her eyes darkening. "What have I done to upset you so, ma chérie?"

This question hit Hermione like a ton of bricks. It is the same one she has been asking herself since the night of the Triwizard announcement dinner. Even Harry, who has enough on his plate with being the most hated guy in Hogwarts for getting into the tournament the night before, ambushed her in the hall earlier that morning asking if Fleur had done anything to her that they should know about. That is when it dawns on her. Hermione takes the Beauxbaton girl's hand to pry it off of her wrist and immediately lets it go as if her touch had burned her.

"Have you..asked my friends?" Hermione quirks an eyebrow as she asks, not knowing whether to feel flattered or stalked.

The surprise that overtakes Fleur's features tell Hermione everything she needs to know. The brunette shakes her head and lets out a small, unamused chuckle. "I will tell you, _ma chérie. _You tear down Hogwarts when I bet my schoolmates could beat half of you Beauxbaton flirts in any subject. You think you're better, but you're no better than..than.."

In her flustered speech a cold voice comes to her assistance behind her, "than a mudblood. Isn't that right, Granger?"

The familiar taunting laugh makes Hermione clench her fists. It only takes Fleur a moment to realize the insult in his words. "In the wrong part of the school, aren't you Malfoy?" Hermione slows her words a bit as if talking to a toddler, "This place is only for people who can read."

Malfoy sneers as his two lackeys, Crabbe and Goyle, snicker behind him. "Shut it you twats."

He smacks them both upside their heads and continues on his way with nothing more than a glare towards the Gryffindor.

After they are out of sight, Hermione, though keeping a blank face, has fury in her eyes. All she wanted was tranquility in the one spot she thought as her own. She gives a long look to Fleur, but does not announce her departure before making a quick march to the opposite end of the library.

Thinking it wise to leave the Granger girl alone, Fleur falls back in her seat with this new information. A small smile reappears on her full lips as she contemplates a friendship with the unique girl. After all, she is technically not pure blood herself. Being half veela is something she could use to get to the brunette. _What fun this will be. _Fleur decides to leave that fun for later, opening up the first of the many books in desperate attempt to find out how the bloody hell she was going to fight a dragon.


	4. Chapter 4

A jol_t_ of pleasure forces Hermione's grip on the sheets tighten, her chest heaving. _By the gods..more.._ She manages to free one hand to run it down the broad back of the source of her arousal. Viktor Krum's rhythmic movements match the timing of his warm breath against her ear. His powerful groan echos as Hermione's nails leave a trail of deep red marks. Her eyes shut and her hands return to the satin around her, bringing the fabric to her mouth to bite down, willing herself to last just a bit longer. The friction becomes far too much for the young witch to bear. Her hips buck in attempt to increase the fervent speed and she hears an odd sound, almost like a chuckle, come from her lover. Hermione grinds her teeth across the sheets as that sound vibrates through her every nerve ending and heightens the sensations, making them almost unbearable. Hermione's hands search for her lover once more. However, this time her fingers thread through thick locks between her legs. She opens her eyes, too gone to have enough sense to be confused, as she meets the gaze of the French blonde working her tongue diligently inside of her.

With her climax, Hermione sits up, banging her head against the top side of her bed. _What the bloody.. _Somehow through the length of her sleep she had managed to turn parallel to her pillow, her legs dangling off the bed, explaining the cause of the rude awakening from the top of her bed post. Her hand rubs her forehead then slides down to cup her face, only now realizing how heated she was. Her already pink cheeks burn a deeper shade of crimson when she remembers her roommates. A grateful sigh escapes her lips when she looks around to see their beds empty and she lays back. _How do I manage to go to bed early and still feel exhausted? I've got to do something about these nightmares. If only I could remember them. _She grumbles to herself, "Got to get up..." she stands, more carefully this time, "No use trying to sleep it off."

Hermione gives a laugh at the irony of her statement and gathers her toiletries. She makes her way to the Gryffindor's lavatory, her legs still weak from her unexplained nocturnal whereabouts. As she rounds the corner to the washroom's entrance she is greeted by Lavender Brown against a wall with an unknown Ravenclaw boy attacking her neck with kisses. Hermione's jaw drops, to which Lavender just replies with a wink before continuing as if no one else were there. Hermione looks around and shuffles her feet a bit, not sure what to do. _Do I just..or do I..oh, this is ridiculous. _She decides to walk straight by the pair, causing the boy to finally take notice of her and stop to watch on in admiration of the fact that Hermione still makes her way to the showers as if nothing were wrong. _Not going to let their snogging keep me from proper hygiene._

Quite an odd sensation clings to Hermione as she sheds her clothes after taking an extra look to make sure that Ravenclaw was not anywhere near. A flash of Viktor Krum riding her last night invades her thoughts as she turns one of the shower's handles. This causes her to freeze for a moment and miss the opportunity to get out of the way of the cold water that rushes out of the shower-head. "That's just brilliant," Hermione curses aloud.

"You know what they say about karma," Lavender's singsong voice comes from behind the brunette, "You made my fun run away."

Hermione turns around and grabs for her towel, covering herself. "Oh, don't be such a tart, Granger. Nothing I haven't seen before," Lavender huffs and starts to leave, adding before doing so, "You owe me. Remember that."

As soon as Lavender disappears, Hermione rests her back on the cold wall, hoping the shocking temperature difference will calm her down. She lets the towel fall to the floor around her feet and leans her head back, focusing on the cold. Not even seconds after her eyes close she hears an approving remark. "Actually not what I've seen before," Hermione's eyes open wide to see Lavender's head poking around the wall concealing the showers, "Nice work, Granger."

Lavender giggles as Hermione throws the first thing she could get her hands on, resulting in a bar of soap flying at the older Gryffindor's head. Lavender dodges the soap with ease and hums as she struts out of the lavatory. "I give you an A-minus, Granger!"

Hermione, preferring not to get a grade from anyone else, rushes into the shower. She welcomes the warmth raining down on her, immediately lathering her body. As nice as the water feels she does not want to be caught in the shower by Lavender if she decides to enact more torture for her interrupted morning events.

After getting herself as presentable as she could manage, Hermione makes her way to the Great Hall, hoping to at least catch lunch since she had clearly slept through breakfast. She looks around for a familiar face and spots Ginny in the company of two older Gryffindors. The young Weasley girl catches Hermione's confused demeanor as she approaches the trio and promptly introduces them to her. Hermione gives a polite smile, but pays them no further mind, finding it far more important to gather a napkin full of food to eat in the courtyard.

Ginny notices her friend walking off after silently hoarding food, completely ignoring the nice guys in front of her. She excuses herself and rushes after the brunette. "Hey," Ginny grabs her arm as she catches up to her just outside the Great Hall, "what was all that about?"

Hermione rolls her eyes and pushes back the memory of Fleur doing a familiar act in the library, "Why does everyone keep grabbing me?"

Ginny shrugs off the older girl's attitude and lets out a small laugh, "Woke up on the wrong side of the bed I see. The tall one kept looking at you, ya know."

"He was not," Hermione replies shortly.

"Oh, whatever, we both know he was. The only way you wouldn't notice is..if you had someone else on your mind," a grin overtakes the redhead's face as she links arms with Hermione and accompanies her to the courtyard uninvited.

At that, Hermione lets out a laugh of her own, "Please. I have exams and such to worry about, not-" she crinkles her nose in disgust, Viktor's strong image invading her mind, "boys."

Ginny lets out a whine, "But the Yule Ball..."

Just as Hermione is about to go into a long explanation of the misogynistic nature of the event, something more important catches Ginny's attention. She gives a brief goodbye kiss to the brunette's cheek before bounding off to other Gryffindors in her year.

Not surprised by the Weasley knack for short attention spans, Hermione does not give the sudden departure a second thought. Instead, she simply makes her way to a free table in the middle of the courtyard. She unwraps her napkin of goodies, thanking the gods that it was not a day of classes. Just as she is about to devour a sandwich she notices a certain blonde tucked away at a table in the corner of the courtyard. Hermione glances down at her sandwich, mouth watering, then back at the worried girl. "Oh, for Christ's sake."

She gathers her lunch back into the napkin and makes her way over to the Beauxbaton. Not saying a word, Hermione takes a seat opposite Fleur and offers her half of the sandwich.

Giving into a moment of shock at the younger girl's boldness, Fleur's face then sets into a prideful sneer, looking at the simplistic sandwich with extreme discontent. "Why even eat something so poorly made?"

Hermione quirks a brow, not fazed by the comment she already assumed was coming, "Because it is good." The Gryffindor takes a small bite out of it in spite of the older girl's ungrateful demeanor.

Fleur's eyes narrow, "I'd rather starve."

Figuring her day could not get any worse, Hermione decides to find humor in the French girl's comment. "Starve if you must, but then you won't be able to beat the boys in this competition."

Shock momentarily overtakes Fleur's pale features once more as she responds carefully, not wishing to ruin the brunette's seemingly to-good-to-be-true mood, "You shouldn't be rooting for the enemy, ma chère (1). The others might call treason."

Hermione allows a laugh to escape her lips after quickly finishing off half of the sandwich, "I hardly think anyone will find out considering you would die before admitting to your cult that you actually carried on a real conversation with a Hogwarts student. A younger year, no less."

A sigh comes from the blonde as she shakes her head, "What suggests that I think so little of you?"

Seriousness sets into Hermione's voice, "Maybe the way to snarl at every aspect of this school. Or the way you coldly turn down every single boy who asks you to the Yule Ball. Or-" Hermione holds up the other remaining half of the sandwich, lightening up once more, "-the way you cannot even bring yourself to eat the food I so graciously offered."

Fleur gives the girl across from her a long look, wondering to herself why she has been so enticed by the brunette. "Fine." She snatches the sandwich from Hermione's grasp and gulps, raising her nose at the monstrosity, before taking a quick, reluctant bite.

Now it was Hermione's turn to be surprised, biting her lip in attempt to hold back any amusement from Fleur's reaction to eating the food. The two lock eyes after the blonde finally swallows and, for no apparent reason, burst into laughter. Hermione takes the sandwich back carefully, as if it might burn the French girl if she holds it much longer, "Was it really that bad?"

Fleur replies with a nod, "Almost as bad as the boys you mentioned who keep nagging me about this silly dance."

Hermione rests her chin on her palm to feign indifference, "Poor Fleur, getting asked out by every male in a one-hundred yard radius. That's dreadful."

The older girl simply motions to the group of boys a few feet away that seem to be more around her year and notes, "They have all been standing there staring at me for fifteen minutes now. Which means I only have about five minutes to sneak away before one of them 'gathers their courage'."

Hermione glances behind her to see that she is not exaggerating. The mixture of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor boys are practically in a huddle, shoving each other towards the table with the golden prize, the unobtainable Beauxbaton champion. So vexed by how loopy the boys seem to be acting, Hermione did not even notice Fleur gather her things before she felt a hand on her arm, lifting her up. "Come on," the older girl commands, "now we have two minutes."

Whether she liked it or not, Hermione was lifted to her feet by the slender girl's surprising strength. A sense of excitement overtakes the brunette as she rushes out of the courtyard with Fleur. Another command comes from the blonde, "Don't look back."

In pure childish defiance Hermione glances back over her shoulder and soon wishes she hadn't. The simple glance seemed to be all the invitation half the boys needed to follow the two girls. Fleur notices the scene Hermione has caused and quickens her pace in panic, "See? I told you not to look back. Stubborn girl."

Hermione feels a pang of guilt when she realizes the inconvenience her presence has brought, only wanting to have cheered up the Beauxbaton. She decides to do what she does best, to take charge, "Follow me."

She grabs the blonde's hand as she takes the lead, weaving them through the lines of students heading out to enjoy the fresh air. After making it through the doors back into the castle Hermione asks in a hopeful tone, "Are they gone?"

Fleur replies with a slightly irritated no and encourages Hermione to have a better plan to which Hermione replies, "Run!"

The pair speeds down the hall, rousing a few pictures awake along the walls. Hermione leads them into a quick turn, heading straight for the Charms classroom with the knowledge of Professor Flitwick's noon stroll to the Infirmary to flirt with one of the nurses. Before the boys have a chance to catch up, Hermione pulls Fleur into the empty classroom and pins her against the wall. "Why are we st-"

Hermione throws a hand over the girl's mouth before she can finish her question and lets go of the dainty hand to put a finger to her own lips, motioning the blonde to stay quiet. The silence leaves the girls with nothing to do but stare at one another and await their fates, chests heaving from the sudden sprint. Hermione slowly lowers her hand from the taller girl's mouth, but keeps her stance in front of her, body frozen at the sound of pattering feet and confused mumbles of the half-wit boys. Both girls bite down on their lower lips to keep from laughing at the remarks from the group just on the other side of the wall. Soon, one is smart enough to give up the search, figuring it useless anyways, and the others join him in leaving back down the hall.

The moment they are sure to be safe, both girls give into their fit of nervous laughter. Fleur is the first to regain her senses, her laughter fading into a small chuckle as she asks, "How did you know they would not come looking in here?"

The brunette, however, loses her will to speak when the familiar tune from the blonde makes the fragmented memories from her dream with Viktor come back in whole. "You..we.." Hermione shakes her head and takes a step back.

A frown crosses Fleur's face, worried at the sudden distance. "Hermione?"

That is when it hits the younger girl. All of those dreams-no, nightmares-come flooding into her mind. Hermione runs a hand through her hair, the sensations that felt so real overwhelming her once more. _They all started the same, Viktor making advances, and then-_

She looks on in horror at the girl in front of her, the girl responsible for those sleepless nights. _This makes no sense._ Hermione, unable to contain herself, exclaims, "What are you? Wh-what have you done to me?"

Fleur's mouth opens, no words managing to come out. For the first time in her life someone has rendered her completely speechless. They were having such a good time, there is no explanation for the Gryffindor's erratic behavior. _Except..oh no, not on her. No. _She reaches out to touch the brunette, hoping to coax her out of her anger, "please let me explain, ma chère."

In a flurry of panic and confusion Hermione slaps the older girl's hand back. "Stay away from me." The Gryffindor rushes out of the unoccupied classroom and down the hall, back to where the slew of boys had just been.

Fleur is quick to follow, but finds it difficult to do so when she reaches the outside halls and sees Hermione go straight through the love-sick fools. Her cold, blank glare sets back in as a protective shield to deter any guy that might think he has the courage to speak to her. "Stubborn..." Fleur rushes back inside to find one of her friends, hoping they have an explanation for what just happened._  
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**(1) "my dear"**


	5. Chapter 5

**As before, I would love constructive criticism and reviews please. Thank you, lovelies. Hope you enjoy. I warned you it would not be instant love because that hardly ever happens. Maybe I'm just a cynic. It's getting there though, make your feels hang in for a bit longer.**

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"Why are people just so..irritating?" Hermione huffs out as she flips over to lay on her stomach, her head buried in her pillow.

Ginny has been sitting in silent awe for the past half hour as her friend goes on about no one in particular; at least that is what the older girl claims every time she is asked. If anyone else were to come to her like this Ginny would just shrug it off for teenage angst, but Hermione is a different story. She has never seen the brunette act so rashly. If the young Weasley were being honest with herself she would admit to having lost interest halfway, finding it useless to give advice when she did not know who the source of this extreme emotion is. Just as she is racking her mind on what excuse could remove her from her frightening roommate Lavender Brown walks in with her arms folded over her chest.

"Time to pay up, Granger," Lavender smirks as she beckons.

Hermione whips her head around, rolling her eyes upon seeing who burst into the room. Hermione lays her head back on her pillow and hugs it with her arms in blatant refusal to give the intruder anymore of her attention. Even Ginny raises her eyebrows at Hermione's dismissive demeanor, hardly ever seeing her be impolite to anyone. Lavender walks up to the bed, eyes narrowed in determination, and grabs Hermione's ankles.

Before she can pull Hermione yells out, "Okay, okay, you virulent girl! Let...me...go!"

Hermione's speech breaks as she attempts to wiggle free until Lavender decides she is satisfied and retracts her grasp. As the brunette stands the other girl prances out of the room humming her satisfied tune. Hermione brushes her hands down her clothes. The last thing she wants is people seeing her disheveled. _Especially certain people.._Annoyance overtakes Hermione's features as Fleur sneaks into her thoughts yet again.

"Why are you glaring at _me_? She's the one who is kidnapping you," Ginny argues as she points to the door frame.

In the midst of explaining the glare was not intended for her, Hermione hears Lavender clear her throat.

"Oh, this is ridiculous," Hermione huffs.

She marches out of the room and down to the Gryffindor common room with Lavender. Exhausted from her lack of sleep, Hermione does not think to ask where they are headed until they get within feet of the doors leading to the outside courtyard. She stops in her tracks as the memory of last week's disaster with Fleur returns. _Get out of my head. _Lavender looks back to usher the girl on, but is met with another wave of resistance.

"What is this about?" Hermione asks uneasily.

Lavender retorts with a small scoff, "You scaring away a good date to the Yule Ball. Now you have to fetch me another one."

Hermione's sardonic nature flares in her response, "You have got to be joking. What unlucky soul gets to be charmed by you for the evening?"

Unfazed by the insult, Lavender grabs Hermione's wrist and tugs her outside, pointing across the courtyard, "Him."

Hermione's mouth goes dry at the sight of the one in question. It takes her a moment to recover her senses enough to even reply, "Absolutely not."

With every synapse firing off, Hermione turns to run away from yet another source of her nightmares. Yet she is stopped by Lavender's threat to tell everyone she knows about a particular event that involved Ron, Harry, Hermione, a love-enchanted jewelry store in Hogsmeade, and a rather huge misunderstanding. _She is like a rat. Watching everywhere._

The brunette rushes past her oppressor with her jaw clenched, going straight for the one boy she had hoped to never talk to. _At least he isn't surrounded by a sea of posse every day and night. _In fact, Hermione has often caught glimpses of him in the library. Never reading a book, just kind of wandering around. Now it is her wandering. Right to the table Viktor Krum sat at staring rigidly into space. His eyes snap to her own when she calls out his name and remain locked in silence until Hermione breaks the contact, quite uncomfortable.

"May I.." the Gryffindor motions to the bench opposite of him.

He nods and gives her that same slight smile she just knew she made up the time he walked past her on his way to put his name into the Goblet of Fire. It causes her cheeks to burn without her consent, making her all the more flustered about this entire situation.

"Look, quite frankly, I-"

Viktor interrupts, "You look nice."

The compliment, although consisting of few words, sends Hermione over the edge. Every muscle in her body begins to beg to see if her nocturnal adventures did the Durmstrang champion any justice. Her eyes glaze over with a new-found lust despite the internal scream that is telling her to walk away. She tucks a piece of her brunette locks behind her ear out of nervous habit as her tongue darts out to wet her dry lips, doing no good since the moisture left a long time ago. All of it seems to now fall between her legs as soon as her eyes land on the muscles demanding to be free under his dark brown uniform.

Not taking notice of her cravings Viktor continues, "Go to the ball with me," he clears his throat, the only hint of nervousness that comes through, then adds, "please."

Before Hermione has a chance to process the request her mouth blurts out a meager "Okay."

Lavender, hovering like a vulture within earshot, squeals, "Are you kidding me?"_  
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She does not know whether it is Lavender's high dog whistle pitch or her mind finally catching up to her heart's pace, but a wave of realization comes over the brunette. Her eyes come alive once more as she leans back with a new sense of composure. This aching sensation of something trying to break free stays melted into her bones, but she regains her thoughts just enough to speak again.

"Viktor..look.." Hermione tries to be delicate, not wanting to hurt anyone's feelings, yet not wanting to commit to the very boy she could not stop, quite literally, dreaming about. The power he seems to hold over her frightens her.

She cannot get her sentence out before he stands. His tall figure looms over her as he hooks his index finger under her chin. "No cold feet, Hermione."

He tilts her face up and presses his cold lips to her own. Hermione does not make the act very hard for him since the close proximity has made that sensation flood into her very being yet again. After what was only seconds when she wished it would be eternity, he parts from her. Leaning farther down, he raises her hand from the cold stone and gives the back a small peck before simply walking away. This leaves Hermione cold all by herself at the courtyard table.

Until another squeal reminds her she is not actually alone, "what the hell, Granger?"

She winces as Lavender squeezes in next to her on the bench, but does not pay attention to the long speech she gives about 'messing with another's man'. _That kiss..wow..he looked so hot- _This thought makes Hermione cringe. _Since when do I stoop so low as to think about someone's "hotness"? _In the middle of Lavender's dramatic climax Hermione decides to go to the library, leaving a not at all happy squealing girl behind to rant to someone else.

_How did he know my name?_


End file.
